My Enemy's Daughter (Edited)

Chapter 44

 Fiona's POV

I smiled as I sat beside Samuel in the church pew, feeling a warmth in my chest that I hadn't felt in a long time. The early morning sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting soft colors across the congregation. Samuel was beside me, exactly where I wanted him to be. His presence today was a promise kept, and even though he'd grumbled earlier, claiming he was only here to humor me, I knew it meant more than he let on.

"This doesn't mean I'm going to church willingly every Sunday, Fiona," Samuel had said when he picked me up that morning. His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, like he wanted me to understand his reluctance.

"I won't hold it against you," I replied, smiling. "But thank you for keeping your word."

He gave me a sideways glance, the corners of his lips twitching as though trying to hide a smile, and we drove in comfortable silence to the church.

Now, as Pastor Simeon spoke from the pulpit about redemption and forgiveness, using powerful scriptures that pierced through the weight I'd been carrying for so long, I could feel something shifting inside me. I glanced at Samuel, wondering if he felt it too. His usual composed expression was soft, almost contemplative. The pastor's words seemed to be resonating with him.

"God's forgiveness is available for everyone," Pastor Simeon's voice rang out, gentle yet firm. "No sin is too great for His mercy. Today, if you feel the tug on your heart, if you want to start anew, come forward. Surrender your life to Christ."

I watched as several people, mostly youths, stood up and walked toward the altar. The sight brought a tear to my eye, thinking back to the day I made the same decision years ago. It was the best thing I'd ever done.

But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

Samuel stood up.

My heart stopped. He was slow at first, as though unsure of his movements, but the resolve on his face grew stronger with every step he took. I sat frozen in place as I watched him walk toward the altar and kneel among the others. I blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening.

Samuel Fox. Kneeling at the altar. Giving his life to Christ.

Tears blurred my vision, and I clasped my hands over my mouth, unable to stop the sob that rose from my throat. I had prayed for this moment, but to witness it felt like a miracle in itself. Pastor Simeon offered a prayer, his voice soothing and full of grace. When the prayer ended, those who had come forward returned to their seats, including Samuel.

He settled beside me once more, a quiet peace radiating from him. His eyes met mine, and I could see the softness there—the vulnerability.

"I feel lighter," he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Brand new, even."

I couldn't speak for a moment, overwhelmed by emotion. Instead, I reached out and squeezed his hand, my tears flowing freely. He smiled and held my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, and I realized that for the first time, I was seeing Samuel in a way I'd never seen him before. His walls were down.

After the service, Pastor Simeon came over to us, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was as moved as I was.

"I knew there was a seed of God in you, Samuel," Pastor Simeon said warmly. "You've made the best decision of your life today."

Samuel nodded, looking a little shy. "It feels that way. I didn't think... I didn't expect it, but it feels right."

We talked for a while longer, the pastor's words encouraging and full of wisdom. Samuel seemed lighter, more at ease, and I couldn't stop smiling as we left the church and headed to lunch.

"Let's celebrate," I suggested, my heart still soaring. "I know just the place."

Samuel's grin matched mine. "Celebrating a new life, huh? Alright, lead the way."

We arrived at a luxury restaurant, the kind with chandeliers and soft classical music playing in the background. As we were seated, I couldn't help but feel proud of Samuel. Today felt monumental, and I wanted to savor every moment of it.

But life, as usual, had its way of throwing curveballs.

As we walked out of the restaurant after a beautiful lunch, laughing about something silly, we ran into my father.

Jake Bruckner. The last person I wanted to see today.

"Samuel," he said, his voice cold and disapproving as always. His eyes flicked between us, landing on my hand intertwined with Samuel's. "You should find a woman your age. Clara, for instance. And you, Fiona... you're not going to tie yourself into this, are you?"

His words cut through the joy I'd been feeling. I saw Samuel's jaw tense beside me, his body stiffening. "It's none of your business who Fiona chooses to be with," Samuel said, his voice dangerously calm.

"None of my business?" Jake scoffed. "She's my daughter. I'll never give my blessing to this marriage. She deserves better than—"

"Stop it, Dad," I interrupted, my voice firmer than I felt. "You've never cared about what I deserve, so why does it matter now?"

He glared at me, the veins in his neck bulging with anger, and I could feel the tension in Samuel's body beside me rising. I didn't want a scene. Not here. Not today.

"Samuel, please," I said softly, tugging at his arm. "Take me home."

For a moment, I wasn't sure if he'd listen. His eyes were locked on my father, a barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm facade. But then he looked at me, and his expression softened. He nodded.

We left my father standing there, fuming, as Samuel led me to the car. The drive home was tense, Samuel's hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. I could tell he was still upset.

"I'm sorry about today," he said once we were parked in front of my house. "I should've handled it better. But I couldn't stand there and let him insult you."

I reached out and touched his arm. "It's okay. You stood up for me. That means more than anything."

His loyalty, his protectiveness—it was what made me love him. And as I watched him drive away, those feelings only grew stronger.

When I went upstairs to my room, I spotted the velvet box on my dresser. The engagement ring Samuel had given me weeks ago. I picked it up, opening the box and marveling at the ring's beauty. My father's words echoed in my mind, but with a defiance I hadn't known I possessed, I slipped the ring onto my finger. It felt right.

Before I could second-guess myself, I snapped a picture of my hand and sent it to Samuel with no message attached.

The silence that followed was unbearable. My heart pounded in my chest, and I started to panic. Maybe I'd acted too soon. Maybe I should—

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Startled, I rushed downstairs and opened it to find Samuel standing there, breathless, his eyes wide with excitement. Behind him, his car was haphazardly parked, like he couldn't wait to get to me.

"Really?" he asked, his voice full of disbelief and joy.

I nodded, smiling through my nerves. "Yes."

Without warning, he scooped me up and spun me around on the porch, laughing and yelling to the quiet street, "She said yes!"

I couldn't help but laugh with him, all my doubts vanishing as I saw the pure joy on his face.

"We're planning a wedding!" Samuel shouted with abandon, his excitement contagious.

As he spun me one last time, the world around me blurred, but in that moment, everything felt perfect. My heart was light, my fears forgotten. And for the first time in a long while, I felt like everything was falling into place.